


The Can's Empty

by WarnerHedgehog



Category: Hairspray (2007)
Genre: Fake tan, Gen, Television
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarnerHedgehog/pseuds/WarnerHedgehog
Summary: 20 years after the Miss Hairspray pageant, we delve into where the main protagonists went.It may someday get a re-naming but then I kinda like The Can's Empty. There are other bits in the cluttered pipeline.Tracy now has a chapter, though it might get a re-jigging somewhen. The pipeline is still cluttered.





	1. From Grace

Penny looked out of the diner window and watched as an old woman in a shapeless brown coat pushed a small trolley along the opposite sidewalk. She couldn't help think that there was something familiar about her. As she watched, the shambling mess looked aimlessly at the diner, shrugged and bimbled on. Penny turned from the window in shock: she knew who the bag lady was - it was ex WYZT management queen Velma Von Tussel.  
After the madness of the infamous Miss Hairspray pageant of 1961, Velma had been officially fired from the WYZT studio and had apparently disappeared. As far as most people knew she had left town and tried to get work in Hollywood. What most people hadn't known was that her attempt to relocate, while initally appearing successful had eventually catastrophically failed and the numerous rejections and another very acrimonious firing had damaged her already fragile mind and finally in 1974 she was ordered out of LA after attempting to assault a network executive. Unable to think of anywhere else to go she had returned to Baltimore, only to find out her daughter Amber had sunk to presenting the weather and was engaged to a lowly construction worker. This final indignity had pushed her over the edge and she had literally run screaming into the local park, punching and kicking and yelling at anything she could. After a few days in a detention centre and the intervening years downing plenty of whiskey, beer and gin, the once hyper-proud Miss Baltimore crabs had subsequently degenerated into the moth-eaten crumbled old baggage with a rotten old trolley that Penny had just witnessed.  
Carly, the co-owner of Penny's Diner joined her at the table, "You look whiter'n normal. What's up girl?"  
Penny refocussed on the present, "Remember that business with the Miss Hairspray dance competition back in the sixties? When Inez Stubbs won and Corny Collins put her onto his show as Lead dancer?"  
Carly nodded, "Oh yes. I definitely remember that. A lot of folks were outraged that a black girl was on TV at all, let alone a very talented black girl who's got herself in a place like that."  
"Well, the producer of the show was a nasty piece of work called Velma Von Tussel , and it was her daughter Amber that Inez beat to the title and despite the fact that she tried to fix the result. After that Velma was fired and got literally thrown out of the building for attacking a studio executive. Yes she failed spectacularly, but she was as corrupt and scheming as anything. She and Amber disappeared completely and no-one knew where she was for years. Well I've just seen her over there." Penny hoiked a thumb at the other side of the road, "She's really gone down hill. Looks like she's a mouldy old bag lady now."  
"Isn't Amber that one that presents the weather on WHOT?" Carly remarked.  
"Yea, that's her. She was a proper bitch until that day. After that whole humiliating affair, she changed big time."


	2. And now, Amber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has Amber Von Tussel been up to?

Meet Amber Von Tussel, glamorous prime-time weathergirl for WHOT. Amber's life after the Miss Hairspray pageant had been thrown upside down. Her humiliating defeat by Inez Stubbs coupled with the very public exposure of her mom's cheating caused such a shock that it made her ditch the dancing and knuckle down with her schoolwork instead. Despite her mother suddenly upping sticks and dragging them both to LA and despite her mother's increasing manic instability, she persevered. She somehow got a place in Yale and managed to escape her mad parent's clutches by moving off to college. She passed her meteorology course with flying colours and ran straight back to Baltimore, figuring the place she knew from her younger days offered a safe and sane haven and a good place to forget her mental mom.  
Due to a very damaging case of fraud by one of the managers and a few other choice scandals, WYZT had recently gone bust and all its properties were taken by new TV outfit WHOT, a company part owned by marginally dodgy fake tan people TanWow. They had a space for a weather presenter and Amber applied without hesitation. One screen test later and she was in and presenting the weather on the prestigious six O'clock news. After a few years, some of the ladies of WHOT had a girls night out at 60s nostalgia night in The Dynamite Lounge. They had a whale of a time, especially Amber, because that was the night she met Stephen Myers. She started talking to him as they waited at the bar and it was one of those wonderful 'hit it off immediately' moments. Stephen was just the sort of man her mom would have hated: nice, thoughtful, kind and a mere crane operator for Dimple and Such Construction. They dated for a year before Stephen proposed while they vacationed in New York.  
Today however, Amber was in Florida on assignment: She was filming a piece on the NASA launch facility ahead of the upcoming maiden launch of The Columbia space shuttle. She set her smile, looked at the camera and launched into her script, "Hello Baltimore! If you're wondering where I am today, I'm coming to you from the Sunshine state. That's right, I'm in Florida's Cape Canaveral which is the home of famous Kennedy Space Centre. This is where, in 1969, Neil Armstrong flew atop Apollo to the moon, and in just one week's time NASA will be launching their next big project: the world's first reusable space vehicle. They call it the Space Shuttle Columbia and it's planned to fly on April 10th."  
"Aand cut!" Snapped Brian, her producer, "Cool, we have two more segments to film tomorrow and an interview with one of the head geeks, then we can head home." Brian had no love of science or scientists and certainly did not like the Florida heat.  
In the privacy of her own head, Amber thought the word 'moron' in Brian's direction. Unlike her producer, she actually loved the whole space thing and wanted to spend another two weeks here so she could cover the launch, but then she had to fly back to Baltimore in a couple of days and return to her regular gig doing the weather.  
And she was missing Stephen.


	3. Whatever Happened to Prudy Pingleton?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Penny and Seaweed's televised kiss, what did Prudy do?

Prudy recoiled from the screen in shock. Her daughter, her own pure white daughter was kissing a.....boy on an awful race music show. Not just any boy either: a black boy! She stood up, shaking like a jelly in an earthquake. With a scream of pure rage, she picked up the coffee table and threw it at her television set. How DARE it show such a heinous image?! It was an insult to God, to decency and the very Pingleton name. The station would pay. Penny would pay. That....boy would certainly pay! In her seething anger, she knew she couldn't take care of this on her own and there was only one person she could turn to: her husband Anthony. In her mind a vision formed of a heroic duo bursting into that satanic studio and blasting the hell out of everyone there, thus proving to all that she was right all along and earning the undying love of all America. There was only one small problem with that image: he was in Baltimore Penitentiary on a seven year stretch for domestic violence. That one lucid thought sank into a mad melange of images of Penny kissing Tracy, the NAACP looming over her, suggestive dancing, squirrels in hats, President Kennedy dressed as a gibbon, Edna Turnblad dancing with a poodle, all interspersed with images of Anthony behind bars. The crazed montage sort of faded out to a bubbling background rage, and a somewhat fuzzy replay of her and Anthony charging the TV studio was all that was left Prudy's shattered mind.  
She fell to her knees and screamed for a solid minute before running to the gun cabinet and grabbing Anthony's repeater rifle. She rammed some shells into it and sort of staggered to her car. Driving like a maniac and causing chaos on the streets of Baltimore, she screeched to a halt outside the prison, grabbed the gun and sprinted toward the gate, taking wild pot-shots with all the firearms skill of a drunk cod. The two guards looked at the approaching mad woman in horror, drew their own guns and with infinately more ability than their attacker, shot back. One got her shoulder and the other got her leg, the combination of which causing her to drop her rifle and fall to the ground. With weapons trained on the injured Prudy, they cautiously approached, and one guard carefully knocked her gun away with his foot. The obviously unhinged woman looked up at them with a peculiar mix of anger, pain and confusion. One guard holstered his pistol and reached for his walkie-talkie: some medical aid was clearly needed, as was an emergency review of security and a head doctor, judging by the angry yet incoherent sounds coming from their attacker.  
After emergency medical treatment for two gunshot wounds, Prudy was very swiftly investigated by the relevant authorities who labelled her as a "very probable danger" to the general public. Following this ruling she was incarcerated indefinitely in a high security psychiatric facility. Wilbur and Edna Turnblad offered to take care of Penny as she was technically a minor, and this was deemed a suitable arrangement by the court. To earn her keep, Penny helped Wilbur out with the Hardy-Har Hut and that experience contributed to her eventual co-ownership of a very popular mid-town Diner.  
Penny would visit her mom every few weeks to see how she was progressing, but after a year for was clear that her mother wasn't likely to be released any time soon. Prudy needed some hefty medication to keep her somewhere near normal and if the dosage decreased a bit she gibbered like a maniac possessed.  
Then in 1968, an ever-so-slight error at Chomondley-Meditech, the pharmaceutical company that made most of Prudy's medication resulted in them accidentally shipping a horribly contaminated batch to the psychiatric unit. The result of Prudy taking the bad meds was a very intense psychotic episode in which she injured several fellow patients and repeatedly punched a somewhat abusive member of staff. Another effect of the tablets was far too much stress on her cardio-vascular system, which caused a massive heart attack, unfortunately her manic moment had caused a small riot on her ward and by the time control was finally restored, Prudy was dead.  
She was buried 2 weeks later in a small service in Baltimore Cemetery. After an inquest and a police investigation, the pharmaceutical company was fined twenty thousand dollars, most of which went to Penny, who decided to invest in Xerox. The investigation into Chomondley-Meditech did however uncover a serious case of embezzlement, an executive guilty of insider trading, a married manager having an affair with a married cleaner called Carlita and in a twist that might have made Prudy smile, a group of weird satanic worshipers who were planning to sacrifice a canteen lady. Following the legal proceedings, Chomondley-Meditech was put up for sale and within weeks, the whole shebang was snapped up by an international conglomeration, the insanely enormous FacelessSoulFree chemicals, who immediately set about scutinising all their new employees. They weren't impressed.  
In honour of how their new acquisition came about, they set up an R&D department named The Pingleton Company. It mostly concerns itself with new varieties of anthrax and other lovely horrible things.


	4. Noreen and Doreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What became of the twins we wonder?

Noreen stood on the top of a hill near Baltimore Penitentiary and looked sadly at the sprawling prison that contained her twin sister. Noreen often came here to contemplate the past and what it had done to her and her sibling.  
10 years ago in the summer of 1971, Doreen had been convicted of the murder of drug dealer, pimp and all round bad guy Elmore Wretch. Elmore was in the running for the title of the town's main scumbag and as part of his slime-laden campaign he had been harassing Doreen for months. After she'd spurned all of his somewhat lecherous advances, his anger finally had a say and in a final attempt to get her attention he'd parked outside her home with a couple of armed flunkeys and tried to threaten her into his life. She'd responded by calmly walking out of the front door armed with a Colt .45 and shooting the two goons very quickly indeed. Elmore hadn't known she grew up in a house of gun enthusiasts and had learned how to shoot at a very early age. Her excellent marksmanship had earned her a few trophies and this time she was going to bag herself a grade A scumbag. He tried to act big, pointing out he had a lot more goons at his disposal. She said that wouldn't be for long and shot him in the face. In the ensuing court case, she fully admitted her guilt and the judge gave her 25 years inside but said in her defence she'd removed a toxic and thoroughly horrible man from society.  
For her sister's sake and for the other downtrodden denizens of Baltimore Noreen had decided to run for mayor. She was going to clean the town up and remove the cocaine dealing, gangland scum that were clogging up this once proud city.

Sometimes when she came to this hilltop, Noreen would be filled with anger at the fact her twin was incarcerated in such a place, but today she was thinking of the past. The times they went to the local gun range and shot all hell out of paper bad guys. She thought of her school days and her time dancing on the Corny Collins show. She remembered being choreographed by Ms Von Tussel, the power crazed woman who like to twist everything in the favour of her daughter often at the expense of the other dancers. She remembered everyone being smothered in clouds of hairspray and make-up because Ultra Clutch, the sponsor of Corny Collins would do anything to sell their product. She also remembered fancying lead male dancer Link Larkin. Noreen paused in her thoughts and wondered: whatever happened to him? He should have made it really big as either a dancer or a singer but he seemed to have vanished and melted into society. She shrugged to herself and gazed solemnly at the prison.


	5. Larkin About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now: Link.

Link Larkin: singer, dancer, pretty-boy and all round swell guy. This is the cat that was going to be bigger than big according to his high school year book. It seemed like he had it all, including a pint-sized partner called Tracy Turnblad. In fact, they entered the Pan Atlantic Twist Contest in 1963 and came second. Unfortunately, the following year, their relationship came to a crashing halt. Link had been on a boys weekend to the Wisp ski resort and bit off far more than he could chew by taking a hill that beginners were not supposed to even look at. His crash was epic to say the least and he was considered very lucky to get away with a broken leg and a bunch of bruises. This stopped his dance career in its tracks and he turned to alcohol as a poorly thought out coping strategy. This led to a lot of arguments between him and Tracy and finally she walked out. Their friends had to put up with a lot of sulking, moaning and sniping for a couple of months until both Link and Tracy were almost physically dragged to a diner, shoved into a booth, and almost at gunpoint forced to talk it out. Eventually, they resolved to be amicable about things and they went their separate ways. Link agreed to give up the booze and get a job and Tracy agreed to stop whining.   
Link was consequently frogmarched to a local rehab center for treatment, and as part of the deal his fellow Corny Collins dancers Brad and Fender got him a job at Barney's Auto Repair shop.   
They had known Link had loved playing about with cars when he was a kid and figured a job fixing motors might be a good idea. It transpired that it was absolutely the right thing to do and he took to motor mechanics like a cat to purring. He took so well that in 1975 he became owner of Barney’s garage. Barney was in poor health and had no children to pass it on to and Link was the closest he had to a business partner, so he handed the keys over and retired to a condo in Florida. Link had renamed it Larkin Motor Repairs and hadn't looked back.   
Today, Link was poking about under the hood of a slightly aged Chevrolet Caprice. The head gasket had chosen the previous day to finish wearing out and consequently the engine had starting spewing too much oil for its owner's liking. The spark plugs were all in need of replacing and the whole engine was a shabby mess. Link sighed and carried on removing the worst of the oil with a rag. After five minutes he figured it was time for a coffee break so he threw the grotty rag into a bin, wrote a few notes on a pad on his work bench and went to clean his filthy hands.   
In the corner of the garage was the little office that he jokingly called 'The Study'. It served as his canteen as well as his records office and his occasional makeshift bedroom. He made himself a drink, put his little television on and flopped down to watch the news. He smiled as his one-time Corny Collins colleague Mikey read out that day’s local news stories. The upcoming mayoral election was the main story and it seemed there were two main candidates in the running: Noreen was in the lead according to the polls and close behind was the besuited bulk of Augustus Bumn. Augustus was a Baltimore native and according to rumour was easily and cheerfully bought by shadowy and ethically dubious businessmen. It was said that he swept environmental concerns under the carpet when Scumbarrel Oil Co. wanted to set up shop in southern Baltimore and that when Ultra Clutch wanted to bulldoze a woodland so that they could build a hair dye plant, he was one of the big wheels involved in fast-tracking the paperwork. This was all just rumour though and none of it was concrete: Augustus Bumn was as shiny and as clean as he could be.   
Soon enough it was time for the weather, and Amber’s temporary replacement launched cheerfully into the apparently jolly task of announcing a week of mostly rain, obviously relishing the chance to fill her colleague’s shoes.  
Link looked up at the clock: another hour then home, get a shower and a bite to eat. Tonight he was singing at groovy nightclub The Ostrich with his band Atomic Thimble.


	6. Fake Tan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some shady people about, often in suits.

Central Baltimore was the location of spectacular skyscraper The Arm Carver Building.  
Built in the 70s for an insurance company, it served as the headquarters for several large companies, one of which was fake tan peddlars TanWow.   
Michael Bachstaber, the CEO of TanWow was sat in his swivel chair, turning in lazy circles as he puffed on a fat cigar. His company chaiman, Harvey Levebufo was presenting that weeks profits and the projections for the following month, "And that, gentlemen is the estimated profit gap between us and those Bethesda chumps CashTan."  
Bachstaber laughed, "Nice Harv, nice. Bet they wish they had their own TV network."  
Harvey picked up a folder, "Apparently they are indeed jealous. Rumour has it they've been putting out feelers in DC 'cause their boss is looking into getting his own station."  
"According to this morning's USA today, they've been seriously looking at buying a big stake in the Almost News Network." The room turned to look at the scrawny form of network executive Benny Gitlike. Benny was the sort of person who looked like he was lurking about with some sort of perverted crime in mind. His eyes perpetually swivelled about, as if they were always on the lookout for police.  
Bachstaber snorted, “Ha! I aint worried about those losers. Hell, look at their latest promotion, “ Michael picked up a smallish box from his desk and proceeded to sarcastically read part of it, “Special offer! A Kaftan from Cashtan! Just send in 10 tokens and a cheque for ten ninety nine along with your name and address and we’ll send you a stylish kaftan. A Kaftan? Where are they? The 1970s?!” This elicited a snorting laugh from the room.  
“So them getting all the free promotion they like with their own pet TV station doesn't bother you at all?” Enquired Harvey.  
“We’ve been in the TV game way longer than them, besides we'll have our very own mayor soon won't we, after all we have Bumn on our side remember?”  
Dan Wino, head of communications spoke up, “Dont get complacent. As my dad used to say, even a small rat can give you plague.”  
Bachstaber gave Wino a quizzical look, “Riigght. Valid point though I suppose. We watch those guys carefully, you all hear? Speaking of Television, hows the new WHOT studio doing Bert?” This was addressed to Albert Conknose, the head honcho of their pet TV station.  
“Pretty good boss.” Albert was a rotund, jolly looking man with a small white beard, “It's so much nicer than the old YZT pile we started with, but anyway, the new morning chat show is real popular. Ratings are through the roof: That Turnblad girl is a real hit with the public!”  
“Sounds good Bert. Right guys, unless there's any other business to discuss, I suggest we adjourn for today. Now get out there and sell some tan!”


	7. Down in the Sunshine State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where have Edna and Wilbur ended up?

Many miles away in Lakeland, Florida.  
Edna awoke with her customary grace: her husband Wilbur was a morning person and was always up early and was probably pottering around outside. Edna however needed a gallon of coffee before she felt ready to handle anything before 10 am. She blearily looked at her clock and let out a sneering sigh: time enough to get up and have a shower before getting ready. Today was the day of Mr Pinky's funeral so she had to look her best. The old man had died of a heart attack a couple of weeks before, which was a such shame as he had relocated to Florida just last year. She quite like him,because even though he was a dyed-in-the-wool salesman and a con-man to his very core: at least he was an equal opportunities conman who viewed everyone of every colour, creed, sexuality, race, religion or political bent as a potential source of money. And as well as that, when he was off the conman clock he was as nice as pie, and Edna sure liked pie.  
Wilbur Turnblad: tinkerer extraordinare was happily sat at his workbench, fiddling with an old radio. Their garage was nice and large and had more than enough space for both the car and a nifty little workshop. This was his happy place, and you could often find him here with some little project or other. His plan of the moment was to renovate a small boat of some sort, but he hadn't gotten hold of one yet. He did however have a marine band radio to get working, so that would have to do for now. He glanced at the clock and realised that Edna should be getting up around now. Oh well, time to go in and get ready: you couldn't go to a funeral dressed like this. Afterwards he was planning to go to see a guy he knew down by Lake Parker about a pontoon boat.   
They had moved to Florida in 1975, and the only downsides they could see were the distance between them and Tracy and the occasional hurricane, other than that it was heaven. Their retirement complex was quiet, near a golf course, not far from a lake (It's called Lakeland for a reason) and the neighbours were a blast. Every now and then though you’d get a day like today, but then what could you do? It may not help, but you could phone your daughter for a start, which is exactly what Wilbur planned to do before heading out.


	8. That Turnblad Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tracy finally gets a chapter!

Worthington Ridge, Baltimore was the new home of WHOT and was proud to be the location of their brand-new state-of-the-art studios. In an airy room at the top of the tastefully designed studio office building, Tracy Turnblad was talking to Arnold Walker, her producer about next week's guests. "So we’ve got Benny Starshine Monday, Betsy Pink and Talulah Bint Tuesday, and it just says ‘big film star’ for Wednesday. Thursday we have that comedian Marty Stevens and Friday is Senator Rushton Toad. So who's this big shot mystery film star then?"  
"Its someone you know," Replied her producer with a grin.  
They were interrupted by a familiar face: "It's Inez Stubbs, that's who." said Senior network executive Corny Collins. He was leaning against the door frame, endeavouring to look as suave as possible.  
"Corny!" Tracy yelled, "How you doing?!"  
"Hey there Trace! Lookin' fabulous as always! That morning show's doing you good."  
“Why thank you, sir!” She replied with a somwhat gracious giggle.  
“Do come in and take a seat Mr Collins.” Arnold gestured towards a chair.  
Tracy Turnblad, Television presenter, newspaper columnist and fashion icon (sort of) was the star of Breakfast Talk, WHOT’s new morning chat show. After her split from Link Larkin, Tracy had spent a whole month moping before money worries (as well as her increasingly irritated friends) forced her to pull herself together and get a job. Local newspaper The Baltimore Reporter was looking for an assistant for Mandy Pumps, their gossip columinst and Tracy figured she’d give it a go. The Reporter’s editor remembered her from her stint on the Corny Collins show and decided to give her a chance. She did surprisingly well and was soon interviewing various people for the column. It was an interview with WHOT’s Albert Conknose that led to them giving her a screen test with a view to her hosting a talk show. It was also an interview for The Baltimore Reporter that led to her meeting Peter Fletcher. Hollywood star and massive ego on legs Bert Nichols was hosting interviews at the Regal Baltimore Hotel and Tracy had been sent along to represent the Reporter. Hotel chef Peter was running errands in between sittings and literally ran into her in a corridor and without a pause asked her out. That was three years ago and to Tracy’s surprise, not only were they still together, but going pretty darn strong. Peter was doing well at the hotel and was in serious contention for head chef.


End file.
